


Drowning

by ProfessorPlum



Series: A reason for living. [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: I am not really sure if Jim is mental or not, M/M, Sex, Teenlock, Underage possibly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-08
Updated: 2013-05-08
Packaged: 2017-12-10 18:54:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/789097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProfessorPlum/pseuds/ProfessorPlum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I wanted to write a first person story in Jim's point of view because I feel it hasn't been done too often.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drowning

**Author's Note:**

> I was going to split it into chapters but.. oh well. Rated Mature to be safe.

Sebastian is probably the only person I know who has nothing to live for. His family is just about as broken as it could be. He tells me that he likes it that way that family is a fatality, and I believe him. He tells me that he wants to join the military but I think that’s just an excuse to kill himself, I also suspects that’s why he smokes. If he doesn’t die from lung cancer, he’ll die somewhere in a small base in Afghanistan with a bullet through his shoulder, slowly bleeding out and all hope lost, not that he had much hope in the first place. Hope is a lie that Sebastian just doesn’t buy into. Somehow that picture seems fitting. He won’t return home as a war hero and a metal to commemorate his honor. He’ll die with no one around him the way he likes it, and he won’t cry, Sebastian doesn’t cry about death. 

Sometimes I wish he wouldn’t smoke because dying of lung cancer seems like to normal a death for someone as one of a kind as him. He deserves to be killed in battle, an important battle, to silence the battle that I know rages on in his head. 

Sometimes I sit in class staring off into space and thinking trivial things that don’t seem quite as important afterwards, before I realize that it’s him I’ve been staring at, and I don’t know if he’s noticed but I find myself hoping he has and that he’s just to polite and clever to point it out. And I think that Sebastian must be one of a kind, even though I know that one of a kind people don’t exist, because people are as numerous as rocks and just as boring, and there is nothing new under the sun.

“I think you must be one of a kind,” I tell him sometimes. 

He smiles but it’s a smile of pity, like I’m stupid, which makes me angry. “I think if I were ‘one of a kind’ I would be ruling a county or finding a cure for cancer, and not stuck… not just stuck.”

“There have been lots of kings, and lots of scientists, but it takes a one of a kind person to have that potential and just be stuck.” And that keeps him quiet and I know he must be thinking about it because his expression is hard to read, as people tend to be when they think really hard about something. 

I think we must be friends. I’ve never had very many friends, and neither has he, because we both like being alone, solidarity feeds the striving mind. But maybe he’s lonely inside, and I hope he is because then we can be lonely inside together. 

Friends tell each other things, and I tell him about my science experiments even though he doesn’t always understand as much as he would like to. But he doesn’t ignore me even when he doesn’t understand and I can’t explain how happy that makes me. And I think that what I have to live for is Sebastian and he’s the reason I don’t smoke and I don’t want to kill myself in the military, and sometimes I wish I could be Sebastian’s reason for living.

I’ve never been good at talking to people. I can twist my wards into things people want to here but really talking to people is difficult, but when I talk to Sebastian I find that if talking were a sport, I would be an athlete and Sebastian would be the small kid who couldn’t kick a football to save his life.

“You mean more like you?” He asks when I tell him this, about being an athlete and him being the smaller kid.

“Don’t be silly,” I say. “I used to play football all the time.

“With who?”

“Myself,” I don’t have any brothers or sisters because my dad left my mum when I was a baby. Sebastian knows this so he just stays quiet. 

I am good at reading people, I always have been. When I lack is the ability to understand people. But what I lack Sebastian makes up for with his quite mind and keen eyes, and he knows how people feel and can tell just how far people are willing to go for the things that they love. He says that my still is more powerful, but sometimes I think that if I was normal that I would have more friends. But I don’t want more friends. 

I think I must love Sebastian. I want to be his reason for living, and though that may be selfish I wouldn’t know because I have never wanted to be anyone’s reason for living. I think I must love Sebastian because even when I don’t trust myself I trust him, and trust has to be the first part of loving anyone. 

I think that Sebastian must love me too, because no one has ever listened to me the way he does, and listening must be the second part of loving anyone. No one has ever smiled at me the way he has when I make a mistake, because his smile isn’t cruel and mocking, it’s amused. 

“Why are you smiling at me? I’ve only just punctured it’s lung,” this has been the second squirrel to fall pry to Sebastian’s beebe gun in the past fortnight, and I froze it before dissecting it. 

“Because I like when you make mistakes,” He shrugs as though watching me puncture the lung of a vivisected squirrel was nothing out of the ordinary, which it really wasn’t for me. 

“Why?”

“Because it shows that you’re only human. Humans make mistakes. Not the void of feeling sociopath that I sometimes think you are,” his smile is kind though it makes me sad that he thinks I am a void of feeling sociopath. I know he would probably push me lightly or poke me but I have a rule that he is not allowed to touch me while I am busy and so he just watches quietly. 

“Oh, thank you,” I say in a monotone as I turn back to Kyle the squirrel, dubbed by Sebastian himself. I have to dispose of Kyle now, because I have made a human mistake and punctured his lung, rendering my current assessment of his body useless. 

Sometimes on the Sundays that my mum forces me to attend church with her, I listen to the words that the preacher is saying with half minded interest because I already know that there is no such thing as a 'God'. That people are the all superior beings no matter how often the subject is debated the verdict still remains the same, even if some are so narrow minded as to believe other wise. I think that if there was a god, that he would make a big deal about it, make himself known because honestly, I couldn't imagine not taking credit for life on earth, no matter how distraught and boring it is.

Sebatsian doesn't go to church, he doesn't believe in a God either but I think he must believe in some kind of after life the way he talks about the dead. But it may just be that he is indifferent. Indifferent about the dead, different about the living, indifferent about his life. 

"Do you believe in heaven?" I ask him though I don't mean to sound dull, I am genuinely interested. 

He sighs a long drown out sigh. One that suggests that he's thinking. "Yeah, I think-I think my mum's there. You know, maybe the good people get somewhere nice to go after putting up with all the shite on earth." 

I nod, because I don't feel like asking him anymore even though I know I should. He sighs again like he's thinking, you can practically see his brain working.

And I know I must love Sebatsian. 

 

 

The first time I kiss Sebatsian I am reminded distinctly of smoke, the way it clogs up my mind and makes it hard to think, leaves me breathless and feels as though it's consuming me, blocking my way out and seeping into my skin. 

I have never wanted to kiss anyone before. And I don't know if I like it or not. All I know is that it has been raining tiny bullets of water all day and Seb and I are in his car that isn't actually his car but his dad's car after school, and we are both slightly damp from running to the car in the rain. He shakes his hair like a dog and sprinkles us both with water. We are both laughing. When you laugh your body sends signals to your brain which then releases dopamine, taking drugs gives a similar effect though it is chemically created, and I think Sebatsian must be my drug because in the next moment I am leaning over to the drivers seat and kissing him, and he is kissing me back. But we don't talk about it after. 

The first time we have sex is the same. We are in his car and it is raining and I loose myself. 

The feeling of smoke fills my lungs as we kiss, and the fact that Sebatsian almost nearly chain smokes isn't helping the feeling. I figure that the dopamine must be getting to his head to because then he is taking my shirt off and I let him because the smoke is making it hard to tell what's going on. I feel intoxicated by the smokiness that has seeped into my head, clouding my thoughts. 

I feel like I am swimming now, and that the smoke has turned to water which is almost worse because I feel as though I am drowning. We are in the back seat and I can feel Sebastian's skin which feels more like fire then the cold water that is my body. We are twisting and writhing like fish and his hands are like sea weed that touches me and tugs me farther down under the water, father away from the safety that is the surface. 

We are without clothes and I am scared that if someone were to look in they would see me being drown by water but the rain is falling like we are soldiers and the rain drops are the bullets of the enemy that can't quite reach us because we are safe underwater. 

He touches me in places that I never thought that I wanted to be touched by anyone but myself, but he is kissing me and whispering things to me that I can't quite make out because of the water around us and I feel more safe about being drowned. He pushed my legs up around his waist while he loomed over me, his skin tanned and his chest scarred from being Sebatsian and not having hope, and being indifferent. 

I am crying, and tears leak out of my eyes as he consumes me and he makes kisses my body, and he strokes my hair and he whispers how beautiful he thinks I am and how he's always thought I was beautiful but I am not really listening because my mind if far away, drunk on smoke and dopamine. 

When he is done and I am drown by fire and water and smoke and my brain feels numb and dead inside he wipes his tears and asks if I am okay. 

"I think I must love you," and I am surprised that I am able to speak because I am so tired and dead. 

I hear his chuckle and I look to see that he had lit a cigarette and it now hangs loosely between his lips. "You're not so bad yourself James," and he runs a hand through my still damp hair. 

He pulls his trousers back on and tosses me mine. I don't feel like getting dressed, I feel like sleeping but he pulls my into his arms and I am sure it is a hug and that he is rescuing me from my watery grave, but it doesn't last long before he has gotten me back into the passenger seat and I am wearing his undershirt because mine is wet even though it's too big and smells like smoke. 

"I'm starved, let's go get some fish and chips what do you say?" He asks and I nod in reply because I feel the smoke has starved me. 

I think that this is not what drowning feels like, but being saved, being rescued. I am not sure if we will ever talk about this again, I'm not sure I want to. But I think that Sebatsian is my reason for living. And I think I must be his, or at least I must be the reason he hasn't killed himself yet. 

I think I must love him. 

 

xx

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are appreciated. (Honestly even if it's a criticisms) As are questions regarding well, anything
> 
> Side note: Kyle the squirrel was named after a particularly annoying science teacher of mine.


End file.
